


Rippling Watercolours

by Lumieerie



Series: TTS Rarepair Events 2021 [1]
Category: The Tarot Sequence - K.D. Edwards
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Introspection, Its more shippy toward the end, M/M, Making Up, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:08:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28842882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumieerie/pseuds/Lumieerie
Summary: Sometimes apologies take longer to get over, but not with Ciaran and Kellum.Or, the fic where Ciaran gets over himself
Relationships: Ciaran/Kellum Greenwater
Series: TTS Rarepair Events 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2114925
Comments: 2





	Rippling Watercolours

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 2 of the TTS Rarepair Extravaganza 2021

Shaking out the snow from his hair, Ciaran tightens his coat around himself. “Has the concert already begun?” He asks, already pulling out his wallet so he can buy a ticket. Judging by the vendor’s expression, Ciaran was late. Or maybe they are in awe over Ciaran’s pastel red hair and the long sweater he wore with leggings. Cold weather meant cozy clothing, they could deal with it.

“No matter,” he says. “One please.” Then he slides a twenty over, not wanting change because he knows the local school could use the donation for its band. Then he holds out his wrist and lets them wrap a small band around it. 

He can hear a song through the doors, lively and enchanting, fast and daring like a pirate shanty. It must be at its end because a second later he hears loud cheering and clapping followed by a band director addressing the audience. Then the doors open and he is let in. 

The auditorium is full of people, leaving precious room to be desired of patrons who were late, like Ciaran, and have to stand. He doesn’t mind. He walks along the wall until he finds a decently empty spot and stands there, eyes scanning over the crowd and then on stage where the local highschool band students are preparing for their next song in the set. They take their time, so Ciaran pulls out his phone and stares at his text messages between him and Kellum. 

He frowns. They usually talk things out by now, but still nothing. Should he wait just a little longer? He and Kellum were not ones to drag out fights. Both of them were big on communication, but maybe this time was different. Maybe Kellum was finally deciding that a Magician Arcana was not worth it. Ciaran can’t say he doesn’t blame Kellum. 

He pockets his phone and looks back up at the stage where the band has finished setting up. 

Four counts go by before the symphony begins to play, its ballad quiet and growing. At first only the woodwinds play, telling the audience a secret in a whispering melody. Slow and soothing, like the tide on a beach at night. The brass joins in intervals, spreading its own excitement for the song. 

Ciaran closes his eyes, exhaling and tilting his head back as if he is outside feeling the cold, wintry wind of January. The song is peace incarnate and just what he needs after his argument with Kellum. It was a good idea to buy a concert ticket at the last second. He can feel his stress melting away with the crescendo of the band, can feel his skin prickling with goosebumps as the french horns and trumpets play a loud counter-melody that sets the tone for the whole song. 

It feels like a rain shower early in the morning, replacing the morning dew with morning tears and Ciaran feels an outdoor serenity despite being inside. It is beautiful. Breathtaking. He wants to bask in the sound and forget all his troubles. 

All at once, the music stops. The silence deafens the whole auditorium, not a sound exists in the air and Ciaran’s eyes shoot open to witness the beauty of it all. The conductor’s hands are still, hovering over their scorebook and every musician on stage stares wildly at them, eyes not once moving to see the audience's reaction. 

Then one by one, brass players lower their horns and woodwinds continue the song, much, much softer than just before. They ebb and flow, turning that whispered story to a forgotten fairy tale known only by those in the audience. There is a measure where the brass return, but briefly, as if the woodwinds have passed the knowledge onto them. 

And then the song is over. 

Ciaran has forgotten how to breathe; he has never heard anything as gorgeous as what he just witnessed. He feels colder than the outside could possibly be, but he also feels warm and fuzzy. Like he has just been given the utmost trust of a storyteller to not share their secret. His skin is jittery, fingers itching to play an instrument he has not touched since he was a child. The impact of the music courses through him and he feels like he can do anything. Like he can make peace with Kellum and try again. 

He feels happy. 

As the audience begins to clap and celebrate the ballad’s end, Ciaran excuses himself. He should stay for the next song, but he wants to make it up to Kellum as soon as possible. He takes his phone out and is pleasantly surprised to see a message from Kellum, asking him to meet up. Then a second message reads ‘call me?’ His anxiety from earlier had already begun to lessen with the song, but now it was completely gone.

Rather than answering the text, Ciaran dials Kellum just as the doors to the auditorium close behind him. “I was attending a highschool performance,” he explains when Kellum answers. “Kells, I’m sorry,” he adds quickly, not wanting to fill the space with small-talk. 

“I don’t remember why we were fighting,” Kellum says through the receiver. 

Ciaran frowns. “It was about neither of us having time to see each other. I should not have told you to deal with it because my time was valuable. That was unfair to you.” 

A beat of silence passes, but Ciaran can hear the nod in Kellum’s tone as he answers. “I forgive you, I’m sorry for throwing your lipstick out.” 

He had been really mad at that. Ciaran closes his eyes and lets out a short breath. He supposes it is fair that Kellum did that; Ciaran had once done the same thing to him. “Coffee?” He asks. 

“And a trip to the store,” Kellum adds. “I love you, sparks.”

“I love you too, pearl,” Ciaran coos. 

Sometimes apologies take longer to get over, but not with Ciaran and Kellum. Once the two of them got over themselves and admitted their mistakes, they always were quick to apologize- and make up. They might live for drama, but not when it comes to their own relationship. They have worked hard on their relationship for the past three decades and neither refuse to let anyone come between them. 

**Author's Note:**

> Do yourself a favor and listen to Rippling Watercolors by Brian Balmages, its a beautiful piece and I remember playing it in band and weeping
> 
> This was so fun to write and I just,,, love seamagic so much


End file.
